


Turning Points

by Fabrisse



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: BDSM Scene, Beginnings, Dominatrix, F/M, Light Dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 13:42:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5542091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A murder at an exclusive and somewhat different club leads Jack and Phryne to explore things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turning Points

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plalligator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plalligator/gifts).



> There is discussion of domination and submission, but no acts are shown. The victim is part of a scene gone wrong.

The body had been found at a private club, a very private club. The victim was known to be a close friend of the Mayor, and Jack was privately admonished to keep everything about the crime as quiet as possible.

At the door, Jack and Constable Collins were greeted by the manager of the club. Jack showed his card and said, "Inspector Jack Robinson."

"Yes, of course. Miss Fisher is already here. She's waiting in the room where… we found him."

Jack sighed. "Miss Fisher. Of course."

"Now, Jack, anyone would think you're not happy to see me. Hello, Hugh."

"Miss Fisher. Miss Williams." He noticed that Miss Williams looked a little flushed.

Jack greeted the third woman in the room. "And you are?"

"Mistress Genevieve is an old friend of mine," Phryne said. 

"I see. And does the redoubtable lady have a surname?"

"Morgan. I was plain Jennie Morgan, but Genevieve goes over better here at the club."

Jack took in her all black, severely cut outfit which looked to be nearly as expensive as Miss Fisher's burgundy and cream silk ensemble. Finally, he said, "I imagine it does Miss Morgan. May I ask why you're here?" He said the last to Phryne.

"Genevieve called me in. As I said, we've known each other for yonks. The victim is a client of hers."

Jack nodded. "And were you with him last night?"

"I was," Genevieve said, "but I didn't leave him like that. I wouldn't."

All the focus in the room turned to the victim. He was face down over a padded hurdle with his wrists shackled to either end of it. There was almost no play left in the chain, Jack noted. The man was blindfolded, gagged, and naked. His feet were also in irons positioned on the floor.

"Yes," Jack said, "The position does seem extreme."

"Other than the arms, it seems within the usual bounds for this sort of gratification," Phryne said. She picked up a riding crop and flicked its tail with a crack.

Jack's eyebrows rose, but he made no comment. "Constable Collins, I'm sorry to have to do this, but you'll need to inventory everything in this room."

"Dot would be happy to help him," Phryne said. Dot looked less certain of her happiness to assist.

Jack pulled out a small notebook of his own and turned to the manager. "Mister?"

"Trasker, sir."

"Mister Trasker. How many people were at the club last night? And how many might have made use of this room?"

"Mistress Genevieve had reserved it from eight until midnight. After that, the room was open to whomever wanted to use it. As you can see it's very well stocked."

Jack glanced at the implements on the walls and forbore to comment.

Phryne said, "Yes, it is Mister Trasker. Is there anything besides the victim that seems out of place?"

"Miss Fisher…" Jack began.

Mister Trasker interrupted. "There's a paddle missing and the bullwhip is in the wrong place."

Genevieve glanced around the room and said, "He's right."

Jack said, "I'll need a list of everyone who was here last night between opening and closing times. If you know which people worked together, I would like that included."

"We assure our members and associates of the highest level of discretion!"

"And I'm certain you understand how much less discreet a warrant for all of your records going back for the last two years and a complete search team to examine the premises will be."

Trasker eyes went wide and he looked between Genevieve and Phryne in panic.

Genevieve said, "Do exactly as Inspector Robinson asks, Cyril. Include everyone who's reserved the room for the past week as well, perhaps that may give him some assistance."

"Of course, Miss Genevieve. Will there be anything else?"

"No, Cyril. You should do it quickly while it's fresh in your mind."

"I will, Miss Genevieve. It will be to you before supper this evening, Inspector."

Jack stopped him. "Could you also include a list of any events you've held in the last week and those you'll hold within the next fortnight?"

"Of course, sir." He nodded to Jack, but bowed to both Genevieve and Phryne.

Jack followed Trasker out of the room with his eyes and then looked quizzically at Genevieve. 

She said, "He's an occasional client of mine, usually when his regular domme is out of town for more than a week. He needs regular correction."

"I see." Jack's voice was flat.

"Jack?"

"Yes, Miss Fisher?"

"May I suggest that Doctor MacMillan might be a better choice than the usual medical examiner? I don't think he could tell whether the victim died due to his, ah, use of the equipment or whether he might have been deliberately killed."

"You don't think it was murder, Miss?" Dot asked.

"I'm keeping an open mind, Dot."

"As are we all, Miss Fisher," Jack said. "But your suggestion has merit. I'll ask the ambulance to take the body to Doctor Mac. May I have a word?"

"Certainly, Jack. Don't wander off, Genevieve. I'm sure Inspector Robinson will need to talk to you."

"Yes, I will."

They moved to a corner of the room. "Miss Fisher. Phryne. I assume your friend is a professional dominatrix?"

"Very good, Jack. You've been surprisingly respectful about all of this."

"This is not the first club of this sort which I've needed to investigate. I'm very aware at how close to the line ladies like your friend walk to avoid prostitution charges."

"I can assure you, Jack, Genevieve would never cross it. Her tastes don't run to men, other than as submissives."

"Understood. I assume you're looking at this as involuntary manslaughter rather than potential murder?"

"Actually, Jack, just the opposite. There's froth around his lips and the stripes on his back go far too deep for general recreational pleasure."

Jack went over to the body and knelt so that he could see the man's face. He nodded, made a note in his book and returned to Phryne. "I'll take your word for it about the lashes. I wouldn't know. There was no almond scent to the foam, but it has been well over an hour since the body was discovered."

"No scent of almonds when I got here, either. I couldn't tell if any straightening up had been done to the scene. If there was, then I admit Genevieve is just as likely as the very willing Mister Trasker."

"But you don't think she's responsible."

Phryne looked at her friend and then back at Jack. "Honestly, I think if she'd caused it, Genevieve would have called an ambulance to see if he could be revived or called me and the police herself. She's a good domme. She takes responsibility, even for unpleasant things."

"And how would you know that she's, as you say, 'a good domme?'"

For the first time since he met her, Phryne blushed. "She trained me. There was a man…" she shrugged an elegant shoulder.

Jack's mouth went dry and he had to look away quickly. "I see. I think."

"I asked her to because she was an old friend. I knew her as a child before we left for England and met up with her again in the ambulance corps."

"Thank you, Miss Fisher. I have some questions to ask her, now."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Jack."

"I never thought I would."

***  
They'd gone out to the main area and sat at one of the tables near the bar. 

"When I first arrived, Miss Morgan, you said you wouldn't have left him like that. I assume you meant you would have unshackled him, etc?"

Genevieve was thoughtful for a moment. "You seem to be less hysterical than I feared a police officer might be. Yes, of course, I would have freed him from all his bonds, but it's more than that. The first is: he and I have an agreement. I will bind his eyes, hands, and mouth, but only two out of any three. He needs to be able to signal me that something has passed where he's comfortable."

"I assume, then, that there's some sort of code for him when he's gagged?"

Genevieve nodded. "A blink pattern if he's gagged with his hands bound, and a particular hand signal if he's blindfolded and gagged."

Jack made some notes, once again cursing that the need for discretion kept Collins from being here to observe and make them. "And I must ask you about drugs."

"They're quite common here among certain couples and members. There are some which heighten sensation, others which allow people to last longer, and then there are those which just get people high. I refuse to use any of them. I value the control I have which includes heightening their sensations and making them last as long as I want them to. Of course, you only have my word for that."

"I'll ask Mister Trasker, too, and there will be some discreet inquiries among the staff, too."

Genevieve glanced at Phryne who said, "Jack, please don't take this the wrong way, but you scream either policeman or preacher with your rectitude. I can't imagine many of the members talking to you easily. And Hugh would be even worse."

"No, Constable Collins will not be assigned to any duty when people are actually using the club. I assume you'll keep Miss Williams away?"

Phryne grinned. "I already shock her enough. This club might take her out of my service. Perhaps I can be your lieutenant in this?"

"My lieutenant? No, but perhaps my constable. You seem familiar with this milieu and heaven knows _you're_ unshockable."

"Heaven, Jack?"

Jack's mouth twisted as it did when he was suppressing his sense of humor, and Phryne counted it a small victory.

"Miss Morgan, please write down your full address and telephone number. Don't leave town, and, I know this may effect your business, but please don't come back to the club until I clear it for you personally." He could see her warring with herself.

"It's necessary, Genevieve. He's not saying you can't take clients elsewhere or train others as you did me. Just not here."

"You have my word, Inspector," Genevieve said. "Please call me later, Phryne."

"I will, but I'll have my own limitations, you understand."

Genevieve nodded and said, "Then may I leave now?"

"One last question and then you may go. My apologies for not thinking of it sooner. The position your client was discovered in… other than all three of his possibilities to signal being taken out of play, was it a position you'd use?"

Genevieve smiled a little wryly. "That's an excellent question. I would never have pulled his arms so tightly without explicit permission from him, and, as I said earlier, some way for him to signal me. Based on the stripes, etc., I wouldn't have gagged him. The eye signal wouldn't have been one I'd see easily. But, in all seriousness, the arms as they were… too much pressure on the rib cage and possibly damaging to the lungs if it were held too long."

"Thank you, Miss Morgan, that's very helpful."

Genevieve nodded and exited the club.

"I've been told to use the utmost discretion. If I get permission from the hospital, could Bert and Cec take the body to Doctor MacMillan.? It's quite a day when I trust those two not to talk, but I know your household…"

"Of course, Jack. They're having a smoko around the corner in case Dot and I needed to go different places."

"Well, then, if you'll drive me to the hospital, I'll leave the car for Constable Collins to get her home."

Phryne smiled at him and went out to gather Cec and Bert.

***  
Once they'd made safe delivery of the body, Doctor MacMillan sent them away. They went back to Jack's office where Collins and Dot were both sipping tea. 

"Sir, Mister Trasker gave me all this," he handed over a sheaf of papers, "and said he will close tonight and awaits your order to reopen."

"Very good, Collins. Miss Williams?"

"I thought I'd wait here for Miss Fisher, sir, if I may."

"Of course."

"Also, sir, the inventory you requested is on your desk. Some items are described because neither of us could figure out what they were, but Dottie made sketches of those."

"Very good, Dot," Phryne said.

"Um, sir, some of the men are askin' about that place. It's apparently a brothel?"

Phryne let Jack answer that, and watched him.

"Not under the law it isn't. The services offered and paid for there are not sexual or not primarily sexual. Since no defined sexual acts occur, they cannot be prosecuted under Australian law."

"I see, sir," he said in a tone that implied he was quite bewildered. "I'll pass that along when I'm asked, shall I, sir?"

"You do that, Collins." He turned to Phryne. "Miss Fisher," he said and gestured her into his office.

After the door closed behind them, he added, "I hate these ultimate discretion cases. Everyone should be treated the same under the law."

"I completely agree, Jack. And may I say you treated Genevieve and Mister Trasker very well."

"Yes, well. Let's see what the room inventory and the timeline give us until we hear from Doctor MacMillan."

***  
"Poison. The position might have killed him eventually, say, two to three more hours without respite, but the cause of death was strychnine which was introduced nasally. There were also traces of cocaine on his body, the usual places, and some in the nasal cavity."

"So the cocaine was cut with strychnine?" Phryne asked.

"No fear. This was deliberate. There was a great deal more strychnine than cocaine. Someone wanted him dead. The convulsions, with those short shackles, nearly tore his arms out of their sockets."

"The usual places?" Jack asked.

Mac and Phryne looked at each other. Finally, Mac said, "Some on the gums and, as I said, in the nasal cavity. Quite a bit on the penis especially under the foreskin."

Jack glanced at Phryne who seemed completely unsurprised.

"I see. Can you tell me anything about the perpetrator?"

Mac thought for a moment before answering. "Not really. If he'd been forced into that stressful position, I might have been able to estimate height, weight, and strength level -- especially upper body strength -- but the fact is, he leaned over that hurdle willingly and allowed himself to be tied to it. A child could have done it. All I can say is that, in my opinion, it's murder."

"Thank you, Doctor," Jack said.

"Drinks later?" Phryne asked.

"Maybe later in the week. There's fundraiser for the unwed mother's program I have to attend tonight."

"Of course, thank you for reminding me. I'll see you there. Care to join us, Jack?"

He opened then shut his mouth before finally saying, "I wish I could. Unfortunately, I'm required to make a preliminary report to the Commissioner and the Chief Constable this evening."

"Pity, Jack."

***  
Three days later, they were no farther along. Several other people who dominated others, both male and female, who worked out of the club, had been interviewed, but no ready answers were forthcoming. Everyone agreed that the man had been submissive to Genevieve and that he'd walked away from her in some anger after leaving the room they'd reserved. She'd been onstage afterward, seen by many people during the timeframe of his death as established by Mac.

"Miss Fisher, may I ask a question?"

"No need to be so formal, Jack." Mister Butler had left them side car cocktails before they dined together at her home.

"Some of the people we interviewed spoke to me, very focused on their answers, but there were a good measure who answered the questions, but addressed those answers to you. Do you know why?"

Phryne smiled into her glass. "Remember, Genevieve trained me in her specialty."

"So they were people who knew you before?"

"Only one of them, that sweet boy with the big eyes we spoke to around teatime yesterday."

"You're being deliberately obscure, Phryne."

"No, well, a little, Jack -- it's just I'm not certain how you'll take the answer, and, honestly, I think you may kick yourself for not figuring it out on your own."

"I see."

"Dinner is served," Mister Butler said, and they went into the dining room.

After supper, they sipped Cointreau in the living room and Jack said, "I think I've figured it out. The dominant people answered to you. The submissives answered me directly."

"Yes, Jack."

"So I take it that the submissives will just answer questions and dominants need to feel like they have the upper hand?" He saw her contemplate the fire and said, "Please, Phryne."

"You're a man used to authority, to command. You have a lovely deep voice and sense of sternness that the submissives responded well toward. You were, for many of them, an ideal seeming dom." When his eyebrows rose, she added, "Yes, the men, too, maybe even especially the men. The dominants didn't make that mistake." 

Jack's jaw shut so hard, she heard a click. "They answered you because you were the fellow domme in the room?"

"Yes, Jack." She watched him closely, saw him puzzle things together. "Would you care for another Cointreau?"

"No, thank you." He gazed at her, taking in her relaxed demeanor and the glow she gave off in the firelight. "And you? Is that how you see me?"

She glanced away from him to collect her thoughts. "The best answer I can give you is: not exactly. I see that you're in a hierarchy and that you may, one day, make it to the top of that hierarchy. If you don't, it will be because you chose not to. You like the puzzle rather than having the ambition to rule the roost, so I could see it going either way with you. But I think you'd like the opportunity sometimes to lay that burden down. For many at that club, powerful people, men especially, the most satisfying way to do that is to take someone else's orders and use it for … release, not just sexual, but mental. Some of the people who've submitted to me say that at its best, they fly free."

Jack said, "Maybe another Cointreau would be in order. A small one, please."

Phryne poured it for him and left silence for him to fill.

He sipped for a few moments and said, "I enjoy working with you. I should shoo you away far more than I do, but I like being your …"

"Friend, Jack."

"Yes. Professional colleague, I suppose, though you must learn that the police take precedence."

"Of course, Jack."

There was another long pause. "There are so many men in your life."

"Be fair, Jack. It's always one at a time. Some times are just longer -- or shorter -- than others."

"Shorter would be difficult."

Phryne smiled to herself. She leaned back in her chair and said, "Come here, Jack."

He'd risen and nearly crossed the room before realizing what he'd done. She beckoned him by crooking a finger and he came to her. 

Phryne said, "You'd never be short term, Jack. I don't make many promises, nor do I make them easily, but I can and will promise you that." She patted the space toward her feet on the chaise, and he sat.

"I can't imagine enjoying the, er, implements we saw at that club."

"You wouldn't need to."

"Phryne, I can't… not tonight."

"No, Jack. Let's finish the case first."

"Yes, let's. Tomorrow?"

She grinned. "I can't guarantee that we'll finish tomorrow, but yes, we should definitely meet up and review everything."

"I'll see you at the club tomorrow then. Ten a.m.?"

"See you then, Jack."

***  
They each had their own notes in hand as they walked and talked through the crime scene. 

Jack said, "I've promised the mayor and some other gentlemen that the club can re-open tomorrow whether or not we've finished the investigation."

Phryne nodded distractedly. "Jack? Is it my imagination or has there been a change to the items on this wall compared to Constable Collins admirable inventory."

He found the right sheet and methodically compared the itemization to the actual items. "Yes, that… flail? Is new."

They shared a long glance and Jack went out to phone Collins while Phryne tracked down Bert and Cec.

Collins helped Mister Trasker into the back of the taxi, and Jack instructed them to go to the back entrance of the police station.

***  
For the first time, Jack let Phryne do the interview. She coaxed the story out gently, Trasker's jealousy of their victim for having Genevieve as his domme was the first point established. As they went on, the full story of Trasker seeing his chance to get Genevieve for himself evolved, and they had enough to convict him for murder.

"You didn't seem surprised that it was him, Miss Fisher."

"No, Jack. I mean, yes, I hadn't expected it to be him, but I was fairly certain it was a submissive who'd done it."

"Couldn't suspect one of your own?"

"Far from it, Jack. There are some very nasty people on my side of dominant-submissive line. No, it was the extremity of the bindings. I knew it wasn't Genevieve the moment I saw it. She's too cautious, but there are subs who want to go farther than they can actually handle whether mentally, sexually, or spiritually."

"So when everyone agreed that his fight with Genevieve had been because she wouldn't go as far as he liked…"

"It occurred to me that another submissive might seem more sympathetic to him. Did Mac match the flail to the stripes on the victim's back?"

"Yes, practically before she touched it. The patterns are quite distinctive, she said."

Phryne smiled at him. "Should we expect you for dinner tonight?"

"Yes, I'll bring Constable Collins as a companion for Miss Williams, shall I?"

"Yes, Jack, but please stay after Collins has gone virtuously home to his mother."

There was a long pause. Jack started to say something, but Phryne caught his chin in her hand and forced him to focus on her.

"Sit down, Jack," she said quietly and leaned over to kiss him. "Now then, Inspector Robinson, will you stay after supper?"

He lowered his eyes and said, "Yes, Miss Fisher."


End file.
